


Revelations

by Jofi80



Category: Major Crimes (TV), The Closer
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:41:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24510973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jofi80/pseuds/Jofi80
Summary: It's been over 2 years since Brenda-Leigh Johnson set foot in LA and a lot has changed since then.She's ready to start living again. But are those she left behind ready to start living with her?
Relationships: Brenda Leigh Johnson/Sharon Raydor
Comments: 64
Kudos: 62





	1. And she's back

Brenda felt the late spring sunshine and gentle breeze caress her pale skin as she took in her familiar surroundings. 

Griffiths park.

She adjusted her lightly aching arms as she admired the view that had only ever been afforded to her during a crime scene.  
It was a life that she no longer knew, a life that she no longer lived and a life that made her leave the city she had come to think of as home. 

The grass was lush and green, the flowers only starting to fully bloom and the air was thick with children’s laughter.  
She listened to the hum of the chatter of a multitude of people that had taken advantage of the temperate weather. She even found herself nodding her head in a polite greeting at a couple that had smiled widely in her direction and she couldn’t hide the pride in her eyes for their reason even if she wanted to.

Her life had drastically changed in the time she'd been away.  
Two years. Two long, but equally rapid years. 

When she had left she had no plans to return. She left a job at the DA's office, a house full of her belongings, a husband in name only, her colleagues ..... and the woman who for a brief moment had held her heart in the palm of her hands.

Brenda could feel her chest grow tight and she reflexively tightened her arms to try and combat the grief and hurt that still lingered in her veins.  
She tried, like her counsellor had told her when she started to feel anxious, to focus on the good and happy things in her life – and for a moment her heart did feel as full as her arms did – and it felt enough.  
Not perfect. But enough.  
And maybe that was as good as it was going to get for her.  
Her life was full, maybe more complicated now than ever – but in a good way. There was a significant positive to come out of all the negative. 

She looked for somewhere shady to sit, knowing that the sun was not her delicate skins favourite ally and knowing that it was true for more than just herself now.

She also knew that she needed a modicum of privacy for the conversation that was about to take place, even if it was just the illusion of it. But yet, at the same time she was drawn to the intermingled chatter of families, of couples and children enjoying their day in the sunshine and she wanted to feel connected to that as it helped to ground her.

As she wandered around, her upper torso swaying gently in what she knew to be the perfect relaxing rhythm, she thought back to why she was back in the city that had all but broken her.

Her father had raised his eyebrow at her obviously insincere declaration that the job was just too good an opportunity to pass up. He didn’t say a single word as he pressed kisses to their foreheads, even as she continued rambling to try and fill the increasing silence.

“It’s part time daddy, and the money, well ... it’s more than, well, it’s more than we need.  
And I can’t keep hiding out here with you.  
It’s not fair,” she’d quietly ended when she’d run out of steam.

She tilted her head in question at the silence her father was still keeping. His arms were full and she smiled at the sight before her.

“We’ll miss you.  
But I need to do this daddy.  
I need to live again.  
I need to work.  
It was such a big part of who I was and I need that part back.  
I want that sense of sense of accomplishment and purpose back.  
And like I said, it’s part time, for as long as I need or want it to be......  
I mean, I don’t even have to go into the office if I don’t want to – especially with technology being what it is now.......  
And I need to set a good example, I need to be who she deserves me to be.....” she tapered off, before hesitantly adding;  
“And I need to mend some bridges before it really is too late.”

“I know that sweetheart,” he murmured, not looking at her but at what he was going to miss instead.  
“I think this is a good thing,” he continued, completely taking Brenda by surprise.

“You.... you do?” she stuttered in disbelief.

“Honey, since your mama passed....” and he paused, still feeling the emotions almost consume him even now, after almost 3 years ... “you’ve been on a self destruct mission.”

Brenda looked at him sharply, not liking where this conversation had the possibility of going.

“Now don’t get all uppity Brenda-Leigh,” he cajoled. 

“You’re not a coward by nature, but you know you ran. You ran and you didn’t look back........ unfortunately, you didn’t look forward either,” he sighed a little sadly.

Brenda felt her emotions begin to get the better of her.

“You ran from one disaster to the next and you didn’t care how much it hurt others to watch you deliberately do that .....” 

He took a deep breath, knowing that his only daughter was not going to like what he had to say next, but knowing he had done her no favours in the past by not calling her on her actions until it was too late. 

“because as long as you hurt yourself more baby girl, you could get through living only half a life.”

He heard Brenda sob and he looked up into her tear filled chocolate coloured eyes.

“I miss her daddy. I miss her so much!” 

She broke down, her sobs causing others to be become known almost in sync with her own. 

“You’re two peas in a pod,” Clay murmured as he released his hold so she could take charge and both draw and provide comfort that was needed.

As she focused on calming her own breathing and emotions, the other sounds also subsided.  
Clay heard her humming a soft, gentle tune that his wife, the late Willie Rae used to often hum around the house and it made him smile.  
He had so much more he wanted to say, but he knew his daughters capacity for self destruction was still prevalent, even if it was in long term ‘hibernation' at the moment.

“Brenda-Leigh? Honey?”

She looked up from what had so rapturously held her attention.

“You need to talk to her,” he stated.

Before the words even fully left his mouth he saw the shutters fall down on her emotions.

“I thought you were talking about mama,” she muttered sulking now.

“Can it not cover the both of them?” he queried. 

“I've been here these last few years. I saw what became of you Brenda and I’ve seen how much you’ve changed. Your whole life has done a 180 .... and I’m proud of you darlin’,” he murmured, kissing her head.

“But if you for one minute think I don’t know the real reason you want to go back, then you’re a bigger fool than I give you credit for!”

Brenda remained silent.

“Your mama died Brenda-Leigh .... and that almost destroyed me and I know how much it hurt you.  
But you didn’t die baby girl. No matter how much you wished you had, no matter how hard you tried to destroy everything around you, you’re still here....... and so is she.”

Brenda’s eyes widened at his implication.

“It’s in the past now daddy,” she declared offhandly. “We’ve both moved on. Lives change. People grow apart. That’s just life.”

“Maybe you are a coward then!” 

Brenda had never expected to hear those words ever leave her fathers mouth, not even when she was at her worst. And it hurt.

“I’m not a coward, I’m pragmatic. There’s a difference.”

Clay hummed in disappointment at her emotionless response.

“I have what I need in my life now daddy, I wish you could see that. It might not be what I ever pictured for myself, but it’s enough. I’m happier than I deserve to be,” she finished off sadly.

As clay pulled her into his embrace, he whispered; “you deserve more than ‘enough' Brenda-Leigh. You deserve love too.”

He felt Brenda shrug.  
“I have what I need right here and it’s all i want right now, ok daddy?”

“Whatever you say, baby girl. But I’m still holding out for your happy ending.... and I know your mama would be too.”  
\------------------------------------------

The wriggling in her arms brought her back to the here and now and she took a deep breath, savouring the fresh air and peacefulness it provided her with. 

She adjusted herself easily, the initial embarrassment and feelings of self consciousness that used to define and sometimes preclude this event now long gone, as she enjoyed and savoured it for just what it meant.

She freed a hand and quickly sent the text of her location, knowing that whatever happened next it had to be done, especially if she wanted to make this transition work. 

The ping of the alert caused her to lightly start and she quickly soothed the discomfort it had caused before she glanced at the still lit screen that said only 4 words ... ‘I’m on my way”

She took a few calming breaths and then focused on her task at hand, finding it quickly soothing her as it often had the power to do.  
After a while her mild discomfort caused her to efficiently switch sides, glad for the relative seclusion of her chosen spot. She closed her eyes, enjoying the sunshine, the breeze, the soft weight against her chest and it was only when she heard a throat clearing behind the bench she was sat on that she realised how much time must have actually passed. 

Brenda readjusted herself as discretely as possible, a fleeting moment of wondering if this was actually a good idea crossed her mind.

“Bren? Bren? Why am I here?” came the voice of the man she had once called her husband.

She heard the exasperation and undercurrent of anger in his tone and so did the sensitive bundle in her arms. A cry pierced the air, causing Fritz to step around the bench to face Brenda head on, confusion at the unexpected noise on his face.

As her hands continued to focus with dedication on their task she squarely looked her ex-husband in the face.  
But his eyes were not focused on hers, they were glued to the little baby, with light blonde wisps of hair, in a soft purple romper suit that was currently wriggling as if trying to burrow her way into her mama’s neck.

“Hi Fritzi,” she whispered, rocking her arms in a gentle swaying and patting motion to calm the distress of her daughter currently fussing in her arms.


	2. I'm not in love this time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sharon is finding it hard to reconcile what she wants with what her life has now become.   
> But a picture can change all that - if only she can understand its meaning.

Sharon tipped her head back, stretching out the kinks in her neck that came from reviewing the same crime scene evidence that had held her attention since she had returned back to the office after lunch. 

She heard her neck pop as she tilted her head slowly to each side and her mouth opened in a silent “ouch" at the slight twinges of pain that came as a result.

As she removed her glasses in order to rub her tired eyes, the ring on the third finger of her right hand came into view.   
It wasn’t just a gaudy ring on her finger, it was an albatross – a noose around her neck that was getting tighter and tighter as the days wore on.

It was the wrong hand, the wrong ring and ultimately the wrong person.

She should have been firmer when she said “no". She should have held her ground and gone with her heart and not her head.   
It wasn’t love.   
It was never love.   
It was friendship, born out of necessity and allowed to develop out of loneliness – but it wasn’t love .... and it never would be.

Even now she could feel the uncomfortable weight of it on her finger.   
The red of the ruby catching her eye at the most inopportune times and making her breath catch in her throat and her heart almost stop beating in her chest. 

Her mind chanted; “take it off! Take it off! Take it off!” 

But the fear of being left alone again was why it remained on her finger ..... for now, at least.

She sighed deeply, remembering a time when a ring would have made her unbelievably happy. A ring that would be given by a person whose chocolate brown eyes and impish smile would remain etched in her memory .... but that person was gone.   
They left.   
And they were not coming back - time had proven that inevitable fact.

Her hand reached for her coffee mug, knowing that she needed the caffeine boost to survive the rest of the afternoon and she inwardly cursed at it’s empty state. Usually her drink of choice would be a herbal tea, or even a glass of wine after a hard day at work, but if she was going to last the day then it was because she was fuelled on coffee ..... and when she caught a glimpse of that cursed ring once again she knew that she was also fuelled by denial.

As she slipped her glasses back on and ran her fingers through her auburn tresses she heard the soft ‘ping' that had been repeatedly resonating through the bullpen.   
She didn’t even need to glance at her own cell phone to know that it still lay silent on her desk and she allowed herself a small smile as she watched the only other occupant of the office pick up his cell phone and smile at whatever he was seeing on it’s screen.

Finding the last bit of energy and inclination that she had, she silently left her office, making her way to the thankfully still half full coffee pot that now resided in the corner of the open plan outer office.   
She allowed the aroma of the dark liquid to fill her senses, before taking a quick but necessary sip – scalding her tongue in the process.   
It was potent stuff.   
Obviously the remains of a Mike Tao Colombian roast special that he tended to favour when it was his turn to brew.

As she blew softly across the surface of her drink and watched the ripples that crossed it in response, she once again heard the soft ‘ping' permeate her senses.

Before she was really aware of her actions, Sharon had walked towards his desk and perched on its corner, startling the owner as she smiled fondly at him.   
She couldn’t help but notice the picture on his cell phone screen. 

It was of a tiny baby girl, in a purple little romper suit, with a white sun hat on her head as she slept peacefully in a car seat.

Sharon was surprised to say the least at what she saw, and maybe a little saddened by the fact she obviously knew so little about the usually silent and brooding man who was now regarding her with a look of trepidation on his handsome face.

“She’s beautiful Julio!   
She’s so tiny!   
You must be very proud, congratulations!” she smiled, placing her hand on his shoulder and squeezing it gently in reassurance.

She saw the look of confusion briefly cloud his features before he fully grasped her true meaning and then his eyebrows nearly reached his hairline when he realised the implication.

“Oh, I’m not .... that is to say, yeah ... she’s beautiful even more so in real life, she takes after her mama like that .... but, she’s not .... well .... mine!” he finally managed to get out.

“Oh god!   
Julio! I’m so sorry!   
That was so incredibly rude and insensitive of me – please forgive me.   
I shouldn’t even have interrupted you.   
It’s just, you looked so proud when you saw the photo .... and I guess, I jumped to conclusions.   
I’m, I’m sorry”

Julio simply smiled before he pointed out the text that was on the bottom of the photo that read:  
“Thanks for my Sunhat Tio, I think it makes me look even cuter than normal! 😊”

Sharon had to squint even with her glasses on to read it.

“Tio means ‘uncle’ in Spanish" he explained.

“Ah,” smiled Sharon.   
“So your niece then?” she questioned, wanting to know more about the man in front of her.

“Nah, but it’s nice to be an honorary one – you know?” He smiled as he handed the cell phone to Sharon for a closer look.

Another soft ping alerted them both to another message - the name ‘Princesa' flashed on the screen momentarily.

Sharon looked at Julio with a smirk and a raised eyebrow as she tried to hand him back his phone.  
“Just a ‘friend’, hmmm?” she teased, enjoying seeing the usually stoic man blushing at her innuendo.

“Princess?   
That’s right isn’t it?” she queried – knowing full well that it was.

He reached over, allowing the phone to remain in her open palm, as he opened the latest picture. Only this time it was a video clip.

They both watched as a woman’s hand entered the frame and gently stroked the slumbering child cheek and then a pair of chocolate coloured miniature eyes slowly opened up at them before a sleepy half smile, half raspberry bubble came from the little pink rosebud lips.

“Princesa" Julio stated, smiling at the video clip that had just finished.

“Well, she certainly is adorable, I’ll give her that!” Sharon chuckled.  
“And it seems she has her honorary ‘tio' already wrapped around her little finger!”

Julio smiled ruefully, but nodded- “what can I say? I’m a sucker for fiesty little blondes!”

“May I?” Sharon asked, indicating she wanted to watch the video once more.

“Sure,” Julio beamed up at her, “she’s easy to fall in love with, isn’t she?”

Sharon nodded and smiled as she rewatched the clip. There was something about the delicate wrist and hand that entered the frame to caress the baby’s face that seemed familiar to her.   
But it was the child’s eyes that had her mesmerised. 

“She's so tiny!” Sharon marvelled.   
“How old is she?  
I don’t remember mine being this tiny way back when,” she stated fondly.

“Erm, well, technically I don’t think she was due until next week sometime. But officially she’s nearly 5 weeks old,” he replied.

Sharon’s eyes darted up to meet his in shock.

“Oh, goodness! Is she ok?” 

Julio could hear the genuine tone of concern in her voice and it made him glad that he had disclosed at least some of the information that she needed to know .... even if she didn’t quite realise why she needed to know it ..... and maybe not at all if Brenda had her way.

“She is now.   
There were some complications, an emergency birth, and she spent a few weeks in the special care baby unit.   
But, she’s a fighter – just like her mama” he proudly declared.

Sharon raised her eyebrow at his response once again and she watched as he shook his head and chuckled at her once more jumping to conclusions.

“Trust me, I’m not her mama’s type.   
Now you ...” he trailed off as she caught the implication and a delicate blush rose up her cheeks.

“Ah, say no more,” she chuckled.

“So, you’re close though?” she queried.

He seemed to think about that for a moment before he answered.  
“I think I’m closer to her than most – but that’s only because she’s had a real rough time of it and she’s pushed people away to try and protect herself" he mused, watching as Sharon seemed to take those words to heart.

“But, she’s made a lot of changes – this little one,” and he raised the cell phone picture of the baby, “has helped with that and she’s reaching out to her friends again.”

“That’s a good thing, julio.   
Everybody needs support and friendship – especially with a newborn!   
She’s lucky to have you.” 

Julio smiled at the unexpected compliment and seemed to pause before deciding to just say what came next.  
“She could always do with more friends though ..... if you want to meet her .... and the baby .... of course,” he said, watching Sharon closely for a reaction.

“Me? I.... well, .....” she saw the look of hope on her detectives face and knowing that this was the most personal conversation she had ever had with the man, she didn’t want to lose the rapport they had only just started to develop.

“I’d love to.   
Of course I would!”   
She smiled in response to the huge grin that broke out over his usually expressionless features and she knew she had made the right choice.

As Julio was about to continue talking they heard the commotion at the outer doors indicating that some more of the squad was back.   
Sharon’s head fell as she anticipated just who would walk through those doors and who she would have to pretend to be in response. 

She felt Julio place his hand carefully upon her own, as if giving her some of his own strength.

“I would offer you a hug,” he joked cheekily to try and lift her mood, “but I think I’m going to save that for ‘Princesa'."   
He grinned and he watched as she shook her head in silent laughter before patting his hand and making her way back to her office.

She tied to ignore the arrival of 2 of her detectives. Leaving it to Julio to greet them and fill them in on updates they had missed.   
She could feel his eyes on her through the blinds, but she resolutely refused to make eye contact. Instead she picked up her cell phone, dialled and turned in her chair to avoid his direct gaze.

As Sharon glanced at the framed photo of rusty on her desk she couldn’t help the automatic smile that came to her face. She traced her fingers gently over the glass as she waited patiently for him to finally answer his cell phone.

Her mind never strayed far from their current case though.  
They had one active case and most of her team were out interviewing witnesses or canvassing the local neighbourhood for leads.   
Despite being exhausted, the quietness of the office had been a pleasant respite from what she knew was to follow.   
She sighed quietly, perturbed that once again she had no time to herself outside of the ‘couple’ they had inadvertently become, not even at work.

Just before her introspection became too overwhelming she heard the call connect.

“Hi mom!” came the exuberant greeting from her MIA son.

“Well, hello to you too!” she greeted back, the smile in her tone clear for the teenager to hear.  
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in days. I thought maybe I could sneak out early and leave Provenza in charge when he gets back, so that i could grab dinner and then maybe we can veg on the couch and you can catch me up on your week.....”

She heard his hesitation before he even spoke.

“Just me and you?” came his cautious reply. 

And she knew the reason for his reluctance to commit before establishing just who would be at their condo that night.

As if the person in question could almost sense his unwanted presence, he knocked abruptly on her door frame, apparently choosing to either deliberately ignore her being on a private call, or simply not caring.   
She tended now to think that it was always the latter.

“Of course, just me and you!   
I miss ‘my guy’ and I thought it would be nice to see your face before I start to forget what it looks like in my old age!” she replied laughing, studiously ignoring the man now glaring at her like a jealous child from the doorway.

“Well, if we can get burgers then you’ve got yourself date!”

“Hmmm, and food demands too, huh? It’s a good job I love you, sweetheart.”

“Well, I guess I’m just a loveable guy!” she heard him chuckle down the phone, knowing that she would nearly always give in to his ‘demands' just to hear the light hearted tone to his voice.

She couldn’t help but smile, glad that despite their recent difficulties she was still able to connect with him, especially because she knew he was less than thrilled with her recent ‘unconventional' engagement.

“Hey, say hi to the kid for me!” came the intrusive voice from the man still rudely lingering, no longer in the doorway, but now completely in her office.

The silence from rusty once he heard the voice was palpable.

Sharon’s head fell, knowing that she was losing her son and feeling torn between doing what was right and what was expected.

“Tell him I’m making vegetarian lasagne tonight, it’ll do him good to eat a vegetable or two!” he continued, now perching on the edge of her desk like he was a valid part of the conversation at hand.

“And maybe he could .... you know ... have an ‘early night’ .... and give us some alone time.” 

She heard Rusty mutter, “asshole!” not quite under his breath and she knew what was coming next.

“Actually, Sharon, I er ... forgot I have study group .... later .... and then some friends were having a movie night ....so I was calling to say I won’t be home tonight.”

Her heart broke with every word he uttered, especially when he reverted back to using her name instead of ‘mom’.

“Honey, i called you. And you know i don’t like you to stay out on a school night, especially without discussing it with me first,” she sighed wearily.

Before either of them could continue there was yet another interruption.

“Hey kid, cut your mother some slack and have a bit of respect.   
You live in our house, so you follow our rules.”

Sharon was beyond shocked and from the heavy breathing over the line she knew that Rusty was struggling to maintain his temper. But it soon escaped.... and as usual it was aimed squarely at her. Each word piercing her heart.

“You’re NOT my mother Sha-ron, and he most definitely isn’t my fucking father! I don’t answer to him!” 

The line went dead.

Sharon could feel the conflict of both anger and tears fighting each other for dominance and before she could even string a coherent thought together he was once more speaking.

“Don’t worry Sharon,” he cajoled, “I’ll speak to the kid and let him know who’s in charge.   
But, you know, it’s not all bad, at least we’ve got the condo to ourselves tonight now .... maybe we can celebrate how ‘normal’ newly engaged couples do .....”

She also knew that this was coming too.   
Every fucking time. 

“I can’t tonight,” came her simple reply.   
No explanations and no apologies.

She watched his nostrils flare in anger before he made a conscious decision to try and calm his temper.

“What the hell is the problem Sharon?   
The kid isn’t gonna be there and even if he was he needs to get used to how things are gonna be from now on.   
You pussy foot around him and he walks all over you. We never get a moment to ourselves and the one time we do you don’t want to celebrate what should be the happiest time of your life.   
You wanted to wait until we were married, well, now we’re engaged.   
This is what you wanted.  
What more can I do?” he demanded.

“Out!” she stated firmly, standing from her desk and pointing to her open door.

“Huh?”

“Get out of my office Lieutenant Flynn and take Tao and go and do the job I sent you to do.”

She could see the incredulity in his eyes at her tone of voice, but before he could respond verbally she continued;  
“I want your preliminary report on my desk by 5pm tonight and then you and Tao can finish for the evening. Close the door on your way out please.”

She effectively ignored him after that, not wanting to look up and risk having to engage with him further.

She heard the door slam and saw him storm off, quickly followed by a startled Tao. 

It was only then she allowed her head to fall into her hands.

His words echoed in her head.

“This is what you wanted!”

“This is what you wanted!”

“This is what you wanted!”

Her breath caught in her throat as she choked back a sob –   
“this is NOT what I wanted ..... this was NEVER what I wanted! What I wanted is gone .... and she’s made it clear that she’s not coming back.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Facing the past can be freeing, but it can also lead to heartache and pain.   
> For Brenda her past was never far behind her, no matter how far and fast she tried to run from it. But this time she wasn't running away .....

Brenda looked up at the man she had once referred to as her husband and smiled shyly before whispering, “hi Fritzi..... I ...... mean .... Fritz.”

But he hadn’t noticed her slip up and he certainly didn’t notice her concerned frown at his lack of verbal response – because his eyes and his attention were firmly riveted on the little girl that was currently curled into her momma’s neck.

She used his obvious distraction to take the time to really look at him, for the first time in over 2 years.  
If she was being honest with herself perhaps it was the first time she had ever properly looked at him and not ‘through' him. 

His job with the LAPD had certainly aged him, even in just the few years he had been there.   
He looked tired, and not the sort of tired that predictably came with such a prominent role in the force.   
He seemed weary and defeated and for a brief moment she wondered exactly where the man she had tried to care for had disappeared to.

His hair was no longer as dark as she remembered and he wore it much shorter now. It made look sterner ..... and much older.  
She watched as he ran his shaking hand through it a couple of times, an old nervous habit of his, before he tugged at his uniform tie, as if making a feeble attempt to lessen the obvious tension that was flowing so readily through his veins at this precise moment. 

But his brooding gaze never waivered from her daughter and it was starting to make her question her decision to bring her along. 

It was always a sore point for them in their ‘marriage'. Children.   
Or in their case – a lack of.

She had never lied to him about the fact she did not want children.   
She just omitted the rest of that sentence every time they argued about it ...... the fact that she did not want children .... and she most definitely did not want children with him. 

And it was a sentence she had promised herself that she would never finish out loud in his presence – not even in anger during their worst fights.

The gentle breeze ruffled her curly hair, distracting her, and she closed her eyes briefly, not knowing if she should get up and walk away or make a move one step closer to the life she wanted to have.   
The fresh start that she needed to have.

She sensed more than heard him finally sit on the bench, not quite beside her, but close enough that she could smell his familiar cologne.  
It made her briefly nostalgic.   
Not for the life she had, but for what it could have been – if she had been a different person, a better person.   
“A better wife,” she mused silently to herself. 

But that thought immediately made her realise that she had had nothing to give him back then. 

She had been lost and empty.   
In a new city at the behest of her former lover, to escape a situation she had no control over and now stuck with a squad that had hated her on sight. 

But he hadn’t.   
HE hadn’t hated her.   
Even when she tried to manipulate him to, to force him to, so that it would be easier for her to finally leave. 

And so she had given him what she could of herself, her body and the ring she had worn on her finger to prove that she was his.   
But truthfully she never had been.

But he had always wanted more.

Throughout it all, their dating, relationship and even marriage, she had hoped that she would feel something.   
Some overwhelming feeling. 

Relief at being with someone ‘safe'. 

A sense of belonging, or a catharsis at finally having what everyone thought she was obviously missing.

Anything. 

But there had been no way for him to reach beneath the facade that she had created for him, and ironically he had never seemed to even realise that it had ever existed.

Looking at him now, she still had that desperation to ‘feel' something.

Maybe anger at him for daring to have a job with the LAPD when he had all but stood by, watched and literally held the door open for when she had been forced out, thinking it was a solution to the distance in their marriage.

Maybe frustration that the uniform he now wore would never mean as much to him as it did to her, because she had lived, breathed and almost died for that job.

Or maybe even just regret that she no longer remembered why she had once tried so unsuccessfully to give him her a piece of her heart all those years ago, when the person who had finally claimed the whole thing had accomplished it so very easily and then callously discarded it like trash on the sidewalk.

But the only thing she did feel was the need to pull her daughter that little bit tighter to her, taking comfort from and relishing the soft breath she felt upon her neck.   
It was the only ‘real' thing she had in her life – the only thing she could ‘feel' anything for.

“Is she yours?” he demanded angrily.

Brenda was startled from her musings, still lost in memories, and her little jump caused the baby to fuss at her mother’s sudden discomfort.

“Shhh ...... shhhh...... honey,” she whispered in a soft melodious tone.   
“It’s ok baby girl ..... it’s ok ...... shhhh, shhh, mommas got you.” 

Fritz watched as if mesmerised at the actions of the woman before him.   
Wondering how she could be so familiar and yet so different all at the same time.

The brown eyes that he loved looked up at him in thinly veiled amusement.  
“Well, she sure ain’t anybody elses!” she chuckled, continuing to lightly rub circles on the baby’s back.

As she glanced up to check his reaction in the silence that followed, it was clear that Fritz was still staring – only now it was at the delicate diamond that adorned the ring finger on her left hand as it continued to move gently on her child’s back.

The awkwardness was palpable.   
He looked like he’d been betrayed and as his stormy dark eyes finally met hers she knew that she had made a terrible mistake.


	4. The fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone that has taken the time to comment or add kudos - it truly means the world - and thank you so much for staying with me!!  
> I have a 3rd story that is about ready to start posting, but I am 100% committed to continuing with both Revelations and Think Twice, so I sincerely hope you keep reading x

Rusty angrily disconnected the call to Sharon.   
His vision blurred and his breaths now came in short, sharp, angry bursts. 

He restlessly paced his small bedroom. His body was shaking due to the surge of adrenaline that raced through his veins, only now, with no current outlet to ease its dissipation since the call had ended.

But his self-imposed solitude was not to last for long. The cell phone immediately started to ring again.

He ignored it.

The familiar anger that had formerly dictated his entire childhood and early adolescence began to flow once more through his mind, overtaking all of his usual rational and conscious thoughts. 

“It was supposed to be different this time,” he mumbled angrily, kicking at his backpack. The school books that were inside now lay haphazardly in disarray on his bedroom floor.

His mind kept flashing back to the anger in his voice as he verbally attacked the one woman who had almost, almost, made him believe that this time it would be different........ 

“You’re NOT my mother Sha-ron, and he most definitely isn’t my fucking father! I don’t answer to him!” 

It kept repeating in his head, over and over and over again. 

Words that he never thought he would ever say. 

Words that he would never be able to take back.

He desperately wanted to believe that she wasn’t just another temporary foster mother ....... that she wasn’t just another brief reprieve from the perpetual mental, physical and sexual abuse he had endured for most of his formative years.

But he had so many doubts now.... so many. 

Maybe too many to ever come back from.

Self-doubt was probably the worst.   
It felt tied to every fibre of his being and at times he felt like it was strangling him.

Self-doubt that overwhelmed him when he thought about himself, about his sexuality, about what he had done to survive on the streets until Sharon had saved him. 

Then there were the regrets. 

The recriminations. 

The anger.

The fear ...... and the hate ......

The only consistent theme throughout it all was that he simply just wasn’t good enough ...... and that he didn’t deserve anything better than the hand in life that had been dealt to him.   
To dare to believe otherwise was foolish and it had caused him nothing but pain. 

He couldn’t stay here now.   
This part of his life was over now.   
Only his anger could keep him going now and he blinked back angry tears as he continued to think.

She had told him that this could be his fresh start .... his new life ..... the future that he deserved. 

But she had lied.   
He didn’t deserve this life.   
It was never his to take and when push came to shove, despite all her claims to the contrary, she was no better than his biological mother – perhaps she was even worse in some ways. 

Sure, his biological mom had lacked any sort of basic maternal instincts...... in fact she lacked any sort of instincts to be a halfway decent human being...... but at least she hadn’t ever pretended to be anything other than what she ended up being - a piss poor excuse of a mother. 

And over time he could accept that.   
He had accepted it.  
By god it hurt, but he could understand it.   
He could deal with the fact that she just didn’t have it in her to want to do better by him .... or even by herself.

Unfortunately it was only now that he recognised the irony that was both the ‘Sharon’s’ in his life would always put the ‘men’ in their lives first – it just hurt more this time.   
It felt more personal ..... because he had almost, almost believed her.

Perhaps the one redeeming feature of Sharon Raydor was that she hadn’t subjected him to a revolving door of as many random ‘uncles' as his birth mom had.   
His childhood had subjected him to many of them beating him, abusing him, or kicking him out onto the streets when he got in their way. 

But he was nobodies fool – he knew what his fate would be the minute he heard Flynn declare;

“You live in our house, so you follow our rules.” 

History was once more about to repeat itself.   
And the fact that Sharon had stayed silent throughout Flynn’s tirade just reinforced that very fact to him.

His eyes were repeatedly drawn to the annoying and incessant ringing and flashing of his cell phone. It was lit up with Sharon’s name, or ‘Mom’, as he had begun to call her.

He couldn’t help but stare blankly at it for a moment. It was as if his brain wasn’t quite connecting to what his eyes were currently seeing. 

The unanswered calls had continued 3 times before his brain finally registered that familiar name and ringtone, indicating who was actually calling him and why.

He felt frozen. 

For a moment he was incapable of doing anything but staring at the screen.   
Answering it would only confirm his worst fears, yet to ignore it would only prolong them. 

He felt torn.

His fingers began to turn white and started to cramp at the force he was trying to exert over his body to stop himself from reaching out to answer it and beg for her forgiveness.

He watched himself, as if from a distance, as he finally reached out for the now silent phone.   
3 voicemails showed and 6 text messages.

He recoiled from it as it started flashing again in his hand and it ricocheted across the room, hitting the far wall before it fell to floor. 

“Fuuuuuuccckkkk!” he screamed.

“Leave me the fuck alone!” he shouted again, before he kicked the chair in front of his small desk across the room in frustration.   
The sound of it hitting the wall encouraged him to then swipe his arm across the top of his chest of drawers, causing everything on its surface to crash to the ground. 

His eyes darted to the still lit cell phone that lay on the floor. The screen was clearly cracked but there was a soft voice coming through its speakers. 

Confusion overwhelmed his dazed mind.

The call had obviously somehow connected as it had impacted against the wall, and the voice that was coming from it clearly belonged to Sharon.

“Rusty? Honey?” he dimly heard her sob. 

“Please Rusty.   
Please just talk to me.   
Let me know that you’re ok!   
Honey?   
I’m scared ...... please ..... what, what was that noise?” 

Her panting breath clearly indicating her state of panic at what she had heard in the background and the now continuing silence.

But he remained defiantly silent as he unflinchingly eyed the remnants of broken glass, books and ornaments now littering his floor, all shattered beyond repair. 

But it wasn’t enough.   
It would never be enough.

He choked on his tears as he heard her trying to reach out to him again.

“Rusty ..... I’m not angry...... I just .... I just ...... I need to know that you’re ok.”

But he ignored it.   
He ignored her.  
Instead he focused on continuing to trash his room, giving no thought to the possible consequences of his actions, just needing to lash out and make the hurt in his heart lessen somehow.

He was like a human whirlwind.

Smashing. Ripping. Throwing. Stomping 

\- On anything that caught his gaze. 

Only stopping when he became physically exhausted and his falling tears finally blurred his vision. 

He slumped to the floor, surrounded by the chaos of his own creation, yet barely took in the fact that his room looked like it had been ransacked by intruders.

And throughout it all her soft voice continued trying to reach him, until he picked up the damaged cell phone and swiped his finger over the broken screen to end the call. 

But it immediately started ringing again – only this time it flashed up with Flynn's number. 

Sending it straight to voicemail he tossed it onto his overturned bed before he shakily got back to his feet. He felt exhausted, physically and mentally.

Soon he could hear the landline ringing .... and it sounded like taunts to his frantic mind. 

‘You didn’t deserve this life.   
You don’t belong.   
Sharon never loved you.....’

He felt betrayed.

The place that he had come to call his home felt foreign to him now, it felt unsafe .... it felt tainted. 

The woman he had come to think of as a mother, the woman whom he'd actually started to call his ‘mom’, the woman who had shown him unconditional support .. ... and love....had .... betrayed him.   
And it hurt. Oh god did it hurt!

At least his biological mother had never pretended to care, never pretended to give him a life she couldn’t sustain..... 

All the adults in his life had abandoned him – his biological mother, Brenda ..... and now Sharon.  
He was safer on his own.   
He knew how to survive on the streets, he’d done it once and he could do it again.

He could hear her voice on the answer machine echoing through the condo.

“Rusty? ..... Rusty? ...... Are you there?” 

He heard the sound of panic in her voice and it made him even angrier.

“Rusty..... please pick up......   
I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.   
Please just talk to me.....   
I promise it’s just me and you tonight.”

He screamed at the one sided conversation taking place:

“Tonight!?!   
What about every other FUCKING night, huh, Sharon? What about me?   
What about the fact you’re engaged to a MAN!   
And.... and!!   
You don’t even fucking tell me!” 

She continued trying to reach him.

“Please, if you’re there, pick up the phone.   
I need to know you’re ok.   
Please.... please Rusty .... I lo..” 

The answer machine cut out.

He was glad that she hadn’t said the words that would have potentially halted his planned departure.

The phone started to ring again.

He grabbed his overturned backpack from the floor and shoved his school books back inside, before stuffing in a random assortment of clothes and other items he thought he may need.  
His anger and hurt driving his single-minded action to revert back to what he knew best – running away. 

In the background the answer machine had kicked back in.

“Rusty? Rusty?” 

He could hear background noise now and an engine starting.

“I’m on my way home honey.   
I’ll be there in 40 minutes....... I need you to wait for me. Don’t run.   
Please Rusty, I’m begging you!   
Don’t run!” 

He chose to ignore the tone of desperation in her voice as he continued to pack his life back into a rucksack again.

“I know you’re angry.   
I know that .... and I’m sorry rusty.   
I’m sorry for everything.   
We can work ..” 

Beeeeepppp – the machine cut out again.

He was done listening.   
He was done with excuse and fake apologies.   
Sharon had chosen the path of her life when she lied to him about the depth of her relationship with that piece of shit excuse for a human, Flynn. 

Now she would have to deal with the consequences of it.

His fingertips briefly flitted over his ipod, laptop and various other items that Sharon had bought him during his time her.   
And the old self preservation that had kept him alive in the past immediately thought that he could pawn them or sell them on the street to help him survive.   
But he quickly dismissed that idea.   
He wanted nothing, NOTHING from that woman any longer. 

No ties.   
No reminders ..... and no guilt.

Once his bag was full, he grabbed his cell phone, ignoring all of the missed calls and messages that were flashing up on the screen.   
He had no plans to listen to them, read them, or even respond to them.   
Instead he quickly blocked Sharon’s numbers, not wanting to even see her name flash up on his screen anymore. 

He had absolutely no desire to speak to her, to listen to her, or acknowledge her justifications and apologies ever again. 

They meant nothing to him anymore.   
SHE meant nothing to him anymore.   
This life wasn’t his.   
This house wasn’t his and the woman who had tried to provide it all wasn’t his mother. 

He quietly closed his bedroom door and made his way out of the apartment, locking the door and posting his keys back through their mailbox.

He didn’t look back.   
There was no point.

His thumb ran over the cracks on the screen of his cell phone as he waited for the call to connect with the one person he was prepared to engage with.

“Rusty?” asked the southern voice once it connected. 

“Yeah, Brenda. It’s me. I need your help.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone still reading and apologies for the delay in updating.   
> The comments and kudos really mean a lot, so thank you for taking the time to respond.  
> I hope you enjoy the next chapter x

Brenda could feel the waves emotion emanating from Fritz and none of them were positive.

Anger, resentment and frustration were all that she could sense, and she found herself wondering if the fallout of this ‘meeting' was actually worth her being courteous in letting him know that she was back in LA for good.  
Because, if this was all part and parcel of her being a more ‘well-rounded’ and ‘assertive' person ..... well, maybe it was overrated. 

Sure, she had thought long and hard about the pros and cons of such a meeting – deleting the message several times before actually hitting ‘send'– but the reality was far removed from what she had anticipated. 

The uncomfortable silence between them continued, and if she was being honest with herself, she wasn’t certain that she wanted to be the one to speak first, to essentially ‘back down'.  
So, instead she regarded him carefully, schooling her features and keeping her breath even and calm, despite her heart beating erratically within her chest.   
A chest that was now slightly larger, thanks to the baby, and was being stared at quite unreservedly by her ex-husband.   
And it pissed her off.

Luckily, years in law enforcement and her prior career in government enforced espionage had her more than trained for trying situations – little did she realise that it would later be used in all its entirety to deal with a petulant ex-husband, because it seemed that their years apart had not changed his default setting in the slightest.

Her lack of a either a volatile response, or her former propensity to run away from conflict only highlighted to her how much she had changed during her period away.  
Obviously, the same could not be said for Fritz. 

He had always been unable to mask his moods or his emotions and his ‘default emotion' was always anger.

She could almost see the wheels turning in his mind, his agitation increasing each time his attention switched between the ring on her left hand, her changed appearance and the baby that she was cradling gently against her chest.

Her hand gently rubbed her daughters delicate back. She wanted to keep her calm despite the tsunami of emotions that they were currently entangled in, knowing how especially sensitive her baby girl was to the change in her mother’s emotions. 

But her attention never fully deviated from the man in front of her.   
“Never take your eyes off the target" kept repeating in her head.   
A phrase that had been drummed into her repeatedly during her tenure at the CIA.   
And though her mind said ‘target’, her gut said ‘enemy’.

It took every ounce of reserve she had to remain impartial to his passive aggressive responses.  
A difficult, perhaps even a ridiculous thing to do, considering she was very much involved and probably causing the atmosphere that was manifesting itself before her very eyes.

Instinctively she tightened her arms, wanting to protect the one thing she held dear with her life, her daughter.  
Feeling her daughter burrow further against her neck both comforted and grounded her, because Fritz now made her feel uncomfortable in a way that he never had during their disastrous marriage.

It was something about the way his eyes seemed to trace her daughters every detail that made her skin crawl, and she had to fight her natural instinct to strike out at the man who felt like he was threatening her every happiness.

Rationally she knew that she had nothing tangible to fear from him, but this awkward ‘standoff’ was not what she had envisaged taking place when she had requested that they meet after all these years.

To try and alleviate some of the tense atmosphere and equally to attempt to draw Fritz back to the reason they were actually together in the park, she casually began to remove her daughter from Fritz’s attention.   
And it began with distraction.

“I’m glad you could come and meet me here today Fritz,” she began, her tone surprisingly soft as she carefully lifted her daughter from the shoulder she had been resting on – the one closest to Fritz. 

She made a show of rolling it a few times, wanting him to think that she was moving the baby due to an ache, rather than due to his inappropriate staring.

“I know it’s been a long time, and I appreciate how busy your new job must keep you,” she continued, hoping to appease his ego and equally appeal to his better nature by mentioning his new promotion.

But Fritz said nothing, not a single, solitary word.

Brenda continued regardless.

She kissed her daughter’s nose, before briefly resting their foreheads together, and then slowly and carefully placed her against the other side of her chest, away from Fritz.

She kept her movements fluid, not wanting to draw his attention to what she was actually deliberately choosing to do. 

“I guess a lot has changed for the both of us, huh?” she queried, wrinkling her nose slightly and shaking out her shoulder length blonde curls.

“I hear on the grapevine that congratulations are in order, a bit late I know, but I’m so happy for you Fritz,” she tilted her head and offered him a small, but genuine smile.

But he still just continued to gaze at her.

“I’m glad you found someone to make to make you happy, I always wanted that for you.   
She must be a very special woman.”

She then reached down into the baby bag and grabbed the binkie that had been with her daughter since birth - using it to lightly cover her, before then sliding her left hand underneath the bottom of the soft blanket to remove it from sight ..... hoping that the age old adage: ‘out of sight, out of mind’ would also apply to this particular situation and the 'ring'.

But just to be thorough she found herself also deliberately angling her body away from Fritz, effectively removing the baby from his penetrating gaze altogether, and she breathed a quiet sigh of relief at the apparent success of her mission.   
Doubly thankful that he appeared oblivious to the quirkiness of her daughter’s double sided binkie – one side was Sharon’s cut up old, faded and soft Stanford t-shirt and the other one of her mother’s infamous applique vests. 

“Can I hold her?”

Brenda’s head whipped around, her eyes wide in shock and her mouth repeatedly gaping open at his unexpected request.

“What?   
You want to what?” came her high pitched, yet stilted response.

The anger in Fritz’s tone was immediately back at her response and instead of repeating his former request in a more palatable manner, he forcefully enunciated each word as if mocking her intelligence.

Can.  
I.   
Hold.   
Her?

He then moved forward and reached out his arms, as if expecting that Brenda would automatically comply with his unexpected demand.

“No,” was all she replied, her tone lacking any malice, but still firm in its resolve, as she moved further away from him on the small bench they were sharing.

Although it was just one, simple, solitary word, it might as well have been a bullet being fired from a gun.  
Because, for the man whose fuse had always been notoriously short, it was just one more thing ‘his wife’ had denied him, and it caused him to immediately jump to his feet, his slightly puffy face red with anger and the pulse in the side of his forehead beating erratically.

“What the fuck Brenda!” he practically screamed, oblivious to the attention his erratic behaviour may attract, or even the effect it may have on the baby girl he was still trying to reach for.

She instinctively tightened her hold before once more sliding further away from him on the bench, this time having no qualms about making it obvious about wanting more distance between them than he had currently allowed.

Throughout it all her face remained placid, and her resolve remained stoic.   
She would not be bullied or intimidated.   
This was not the past and she was not the same woman she once was.   
Even if Fritz had obviously remained the same.

Instead she concentrated on keeping her heartbeat even in order to calm the anxiety that she could feel begin to build in the one person that she cared for most in the world – her daughter.

“What the fuck do you think I’m going to do to her?!?” Fritz bellowed, bits of spittle forming in the corners of his mouth, his eyes wild and his arms gesticulating wildly.

His body seemed unable to remain still, his agitation causing him to pace and make obvious attempts to try to see around Brenda to the child now beginning to cry that she rocked comfortingly her arms.

“Shhhh, baby. It’s ok. Shh. Shh. Shh.   
Mommas got you.   
I’ve got you, baby girl. Shhh, shhh, shhh,” she whispered, keeping her voice soft and even and peppering kisses on her head between words.

She turned her head to glance angrily at the man she no longer knew, her eyes blazing in anger.

“You need to stop.   
You’re scaring her Fritz.   
You need to stop, and you need to do it now!”

“Stop?   
What have I done?   
Huh? What? Huh?”   
He gestured erratically at her, lost in his own mind.

“I’m not scaring her; how dare you try to make me out to be a monster!   
You always do that – make me out to be the bad guy!”

Brenda stood now too, wanting to even the playing field and not liking how Fritz was looming over them.

“I’ve asked you politely to stop.   
I won’t ask again,” she calmly replied, not wanting to be drawn into an argument of which there would be no real winner. 

“You are so fucking selfish!” he continued, as if lost in his own vicious diatribe and unable to think or behave rationally.

“I’m sorry you feel that way Fritz, but that’s just not how it is. Not back then and certainly not now.”   
She had to raise her voice slightly to be heard over the intensifying cries of her baby.

“Listen to yourself Fritz, for goodness sake!   
She DOESN’T know you!   
Why would I hand my daughter over to stranger?   
Be reasonable!"

The whole conversation had become somewhat surreal and didn’t show any sign of stopping now.

“Dammit Brenda!   
You just don’t get it, do you?   
She could have been mine!   
That baby in your arms SHOULD be mine!  
And you won’t even let me hold her!  
You are so goddamn selfish!”

By this point he was randomly pacing again and waving his arms erratically- probably the only reason the police had not been called was due to the fact the same man was already wearing the uniform of one.

“I really don’t understand what’s happening here Fritz.”  
Brenda was beyond confused, unable to follow his random verbal trains of thought.

“You’re married Fritz .... and NOT to me, not anymore."

Confusion clouded his eyes momentarily, almost as if he was unable to comprehend the words being spoken to him, despite their rationality. 

He wordlessly held his left hand up, his tanned hand bare of any jewellery, only a faint white band visible where a ring obviously used to reside.

“You’re not married?” she queried, scratching her eyebrow.

“And you call yourself a detective,” he mocked.

“I, .... well, I’m sorry.   
I’m sorry it didn’t work out for you.   
I truly am. Is there, I mean, have you guys thought about counselling?   
Can you .... work it out?”

“You know what’s so fucking ironic Ber-renda?" he jeered.  
"Years I begged you to have a family with me, practically got down on my goddamn knees and you denied me for no good reason.   
I finally found a good woman.  
A woman who WANTED to have my children ..... and it turns out she leaves me because I CAN’T give her children.  
Bet you think that’s hilarious, right?”

Brenda tried to school her features before responding.

“I don’t know what to say to that Fritz, it’s not fair, it's really not.  
But I really don’t understand where all of this is coming from.   
This, she, is NOT your baby – she was NEVER going to be yours and she will NEVER be yours – and you have no right to so much as touch a single hair on her head.”

The vein on the side of his forehead again began to protrude and pulse rhythmically in anger at her no punches spared response.  
His eyes, which at one time had looked at her with affection ..... and perhaps even love, now only conveyed anger.   
He was clearly struggling to contain himself and the sweat gathering at his brow and top lip indicated how much he was struggling to comprehend what was happening around him. 

Unfortunately, the only words he chose to hear were ‘not yours', ‘never would have been' and ‘never will be yours.’   
And it was then that the red mist once more descended over his erratic temperament.

“What the fuck did I ever do to you that makes you think that you have the right to treat me this way?   
Huh?   
What makes you so high and mighty?" he declared.

"You go and get yourself knocked up by some schmuck and what?   
Now you want everyone to believe you’re fucking mother earth?   
You have got to be kidding me!   
You don’t have a single maternal bone in that useless excuse of a body.  
I pity that kid having you for a mother.   
A bastard child with a whore for a mother.”

The tension in her daughter’s body at Fritz’s continuing outbursts had intensified, now manifesting itself into full on screaming and it took all of Brenda’s self-control to not retaliate as viciously as he had during his verbal attack.

Instead she focused on trying to calm her daughter, berating the fact that nothing was ever simple.  
Not with Fritz. Never with Fritz.  
Everything always became personal.  
It became spiteful, it became vindictive and it became personal.

Granted he had never physically assaulted her during their marriage, but she had to admit that there were times she more than felt the latent risk of it. 

If anything, Fritz was more of an emotional and mental bully than a physical one.  
He had preferred to play mind games during their marriage, continually wanting Brenda to be perceived as the ‘bad one' in their marriage – especially in the eyes of others.   
Appearances were everything to Fritz.   
The fact that he was squeezing himself into a uniform 2 sizes too small for him was testament to that.

And now, even after their separation and divorce he was still trying to force her into the role his mind wanted her to play, rather than face the truth of the situation.

As she tuned out his continuous ranting, and gently tended to her daughter, she briefly thought back to their former “problems”, or rather her “problems” - things that he had verbally attacked and insulted her for:  
• She forgot to put her shoes away when she got in – obviously she wasn’t committed to their relationship by respecting their home.  
• She was late to dinner one too many times – obviously her job meant more to her than coming home at a ‘reasonable hour’ to her ‘loving' husband.  
• She got offered a promotion from Chief Pope – obviously she was still sleeping with him, because why else would she be chosen?  
• She turned down the promotion – obviously she was selfish in not wanting to financially secure their future.  
• She tried to save them some money by combining their car insurance, and in doing so found out that Fritz had deliberately declined to inform her about being a recovering alcoholic with several former DUI's to his name – obviously she was being vindictive and spiteful in wanting to draw attention to a past affliction he had worked so hard to overcome.  
• She refused to give up her job, her life, everything that she had worked for in order to become a stay at home wife and have his babies – obviously she had deliberately misled him and had never loved him the way he deserved to be loved.

And now, even now she still wasn’t behaving how he expected her to.  
She wanted to scream at the injustice and ludicrousness of it. 

They were divorced!!   
And he had moved on fairly rapidly for a man now claiming that she had all but left him alone, bereft and childless.

He hadn’t wasted any time in moving on – he had remarried in less than 6 months, and she was happy for him – she had wanted him to move on, but she still had to be the bad guy...... because otherwise it would be a role that he would be forced to acknowledge perhaps actually belonged to him.   
Especially after his actions today.

As he continued to jab his finger in her direction, yelling all sorts of obscenities, she tried to figure out what the hell she had done that was so wrong??

Was it that she had moved on from him?

Was it that she dared to have a child without him?

Or maybe, she had the audacity to wear another person’s ring – how dare she! 

How dare she have a life that didn’t revolve around him!

She could feel the old resentment at his self-obsessed and self serving behaviour that had always manifested itself throughout their marriage.   
And as she took a breath to try and calm herself before confronting the man she had once been married to, the melodic tone of her cell phone began to ring from inside of the baby bag.

As she began to reach to answer it, she heard; “Nothing changes, does it Brenda?” came Fritz’s snarl at the electronic device that had pushed him out of being the centre of his wife’s attention on more than one past occasion.

Brenda raised her eyebrow at his churlishness but said nothing, not wanting to repeat an unhappy past by falling back into old patterns.

Instead, she carefully reached down to retrieve the phone, making sure she didn’t jostle her now lightly sobbing daughter in the process, and she pressed a quick, light kiss to her head before she connected the call.

“Johnson,” came her curt and distracted greeting.

She could see Fritz watching her carefully, obviously trying to figure out who was on the phone ..... and more importantly, if they were a threat to him. 

Maybe he was right, she thought ...... some things never do change ..... especially not his jealousy or his irrational need to dominate every aspect of her life.

As her attention switched back to the person on the other end of the line she couldn’t help the smile that lit up her entire face as she heard the friendly voice.

“Well, hello to you too!” she cheekily replied, more than thankful for the timely interruption.

She purposely chose to ignore Fritz now, going so far as to walk a few steps away from the bench and even slightly turning her body to secure a semblance of privacy.

“Are you checking up on us already?” she laughed, pressing her cheek gently against her daughters’ head.

Brenda couldn’t help but laugh at teasing reply from the other end of the line and she noted that it felt good. It felt natural.   
It was how she wanted her life to be.

“You literally just saw us this morning!” she replied again, shaking her head in mirth at the pitiful attempt of the caller trying to cover up how besotted they were with the now wriggling little bundle in her arms.

“I think she knows it’s you on the phone you know.   
She was crying up until a moment ago!   
I guess you must have the midas touch!”

“I guess that’s my fucking fault too!” burst out a put-out Fritz.

Brenda ignored him and tried to cover the microphone in order to prevent his irate ramblings from carrying down the line.

“Erm ..... hmmm?   
Oh, nothing.   
She’s ok now...... no, no – that’s fine."

“No, I haven’t forgotten!” She indignantly replied.

“Its not for ....” she kept the phone between her ear and shoulder to free up her arm so she could look at her watch, “another 40 minutes.”

And before he could interrupt, with what she knew would be his next query, she stated; “and yes, it’s already pre-programmed into my cars satnav!   
I’m not that bad!”

She could see Fritz becoming more agitated the longer the one-sided conversation continued.

“Hmmmm?   
Oh, fine, I guess.   
Colder than I expected,” she replied, eyeing Fritz warily.

The conversation continued.

“No, no. It’s fine.   
We’re leaving soon to make it across town – I forgot how awful traffic can be in LA.”

She grinned at the earnest offer that came in response before responding.

“You’re just after more hugs. Admit it! Why don’t you say bye to our girl and then I can finish up here and head out.” 

She held the phone slightly closer to the baby and wrinkled her nose in delight as the baby now wriggled happily against her, blowing a light raspberry against her neck as if trying to talk back.

“There! Happy now?” she laughed.

“Mmmhmmm, ok. Yep. Will do. Yes, of course!   
I will call and let you know how it goes.  
We’ll see you tonight. Bye now.”

She ended the call, almost sad to have to return to the situation she was facing before this brief respite.

Fritz had now sat himself back on the bench.   
He was hunched over, his head in his hands.

“Was that him?” he queried, his tone not indicating which direction his mood was now headed.

“Hmm?” Brenda hummed distractedly.  
“Was what who?” genuine confusion in her voice.

“Her father. Was. That. Her. Father?”  
He spat the words out, as if they personally pained him, his dark eyes now stared at her, unyielding and demanding an answer.

“I’m not doing this with you Fritz.   
Not now. Not ever.”

“I have a right,” she held her hand up, as a stop to what he was about to say.

“You have no rights Fritz.   
Not to me and definitely not to MY daughter.  
I came here out of courtesy....”

She eyeballed him when she saw him attempt to intervene and take over the conversation again.

“As I said, I came here out of courtesy, to let you know that I was back in LA and I plan on staying.”

She bent down to pick up the baby bag, placing it carefully on her empty shoulder.

“I’m sorry your marriage ended.   
I’m sorry you can’t ....” she paused briefly, “that you can’t have children.  
I’m sorry you’re so angry that I have a child.  
But I refuse to take the blame for the problems you have in your life, a life that I have not been a part of for nearly 3 years now.”

She began to walk away, not wanting to wait for his response to her declaration.

“And one more thing Fritz,” she said, not bothering to even turn back around to face him;  
“I don’t care what you say about me, it means next to nothing to me.   
But if I, ever, EVER hear you so much as mention my daughter or even look in her direction again, all bets will be off.”


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those who have stayed with me - I am trying to update all my stories regularly, so bear with me x

Walking away from Fritz and his diatribe of vicious slurs and insults had left her with a sense of purpose, and just a smidge of pride, at her new found ability to keep her cool and still get her point across in stressful situations.   
She couldn’t help but smile, proud that for once she had stood her ground and had refused to stoop to his level. The look of surprise that flickered across his face, quickly followed by frustration and anger, only highlighted the fact that she had behaved appropriately when dealing with him....... and the best bit was .. she would hopefully, never have to deal with him again .... EVER! 

She was thankful for that.

But she also had to acknowledge that she wouldn’t be where she was now if it wasn’t for the hurt, the tears, the anger, the frustration, the lies .... and the pain ...   
And as strange as it may sound, she would do it all again if it meant having and holding the most important thing in her life – her daughter. 

Because she was.

SHE was THE most important thing now.   
Her happiness .... her health – it meant more to her than her own wellbeing..... and though she never thought she would ever say it .... she meant more to her than Sharon.  
And it wasn’t that she didn’t still love the auburn haired woman. Because she did. Deeply. Unreservedly. And completely.  
In some ways that would never change.  
In fact, it NEVER had changed.  
Not even after witnessing the scene that solidified her need to leave the other woman’s life. 

But, Brenda had forgiven her. - she may not have spoken those words out loud yet, but she had.  
It had taken her both time, and distance to do so though.  
She just wasn’t so sure she could ‘forget', especially knowing what she knew now.

She briefly worried that fritz would run right to Sharon out of his innate need to be spiteful and vindictive, and a part of her wanted to turn around to seek his reassurances that he would not do so.   
But she knew that he owed her nothing – especially since she had walked away from their marriage without so much as a second glance.

As her daughter wriggled sleepily in her arms, she briefly wondered what Sharon would think of her sudden return.   
She wasn’t myopic enough to think that she would be met with open arms – that was the stuff of Hollywood movies – but, she just wasn’t certain that her resolve would be as strong for the auburn-haired beauty as it was for her ex-husband.

With Fritz she felt as if she were, somewhat, in control of the interaction ... but with Sharon .... she had NEVER been in control with, or around, the other woman.

Where Fritz smothered her, making her feel like she was drowning under the weight of his expectations and demands, Sharon had been the hand that had pulled her from those stormy waters.   
Sharon had ‘saved her’, and she had done so with no agenda or expectations.   
At first Brenda had questioned and rallied against the new dynamic their relationship provided her with, not understanding how or why Sharon was so selfless.

But Sharon was no saint, and nor did she pretend to be. She also didn’t place Brenda on such an untenable pedestal that she was inevitably doomed to fall from it, no matter how hard she tried to maintain her balance.

‘Balance’, Brenda mused. 

Sharon had given her ‘balance' - both in her professional life and her personal.   
And as a result Brenda had felt settled.   
She had felt content.  
And for the first time in a long time .... she had felt truly happy.

At that point in her life, happiness had been sorely missing.   
It was more of an abstract concept – a word that she understood, but which had no real meaning for her.  
But with Sharon, it had happened without conscious thought or effort.   
It was like she just woke up one day and realised that she was happy.

Having never felt that way before she just hadn’t realised how fragile that state of being was ..... only when she lost it did she wonder if she had ever really deserved it to begin with.

In fact, it wasn’t until her daughter came along that she began to feel it creep back into her psyche again, almost as if the clouds were rolling away from covering the sun and she could feel its rays and warmth upon her once again. 

She couldn’t help but bend to kiss the downy head of soft blonde hair, whispering thanks to every deity that she knew for giving her this little tiny gift – no matter how traumatic it been receiving it.

As she felt the breeze ruffle through her own shoulder length blonde curls, she wrapped the binkie a little tighter around the baby, not wanting her to get a chill.   
It was not something she could afford to risk, not on top of everything else that was going on for them.

The light, delicate scent held within the soft fabric of the binkie tickled her senses and made her relax.  
Just the scent of it helped to ground her, like she knew it also did for her daughter.   
The scent was light and fragrant, with a hint of honeydew and wild flowers. 

It was the unique scent of Sharon.

For a brief moment she found herself wishing that the scent actually indicated the presence of the woman in question herself.... but just the thought of it made her heart beat increase and her vision swim.

She couldn’t face Sharon .... not yet.

She hoped, rather than believed, that Fritz wouldn’t go running to the other woman behind her back and alert her to her return .... but she couldn’t be sure.   
Fritz was angry and when he was angry, he lashed out. Not to mention the fact that despite the longevity of their former marriage, he never had, nor would he ever have any loyalty towards her. 

The smart thing to do would be to contact Sharon herself. 

It was part of the reason she had made the move back half way across the country.... she just, .... well, if truth be told, she was scared shitless!   
Brenda Leigh Johnson, the Closer, the former CIA operative ... was scared. 

She could stare down the barrel of a loaded gun.   
She could take down perps 4 times her size without blinking ..... but what she couldn’t do was ... was face the woman she had walked away from because she had further broken her already shattered heart.

She tried to blink away the tears that clouded her caramel coloured eyes, not wanting to shed further tears over a past ... or a future ..... that she had no control over. 

But her fears and insecurities only further clarified that she was scared of seeing that beautiful face and those emerald eyes staring back at her in anger ... and in hatred.

And how would she even pick up the phone after all this time and start a conversation?

“Hey, honey? Yeah, it’s me, Brenda. You know, the one who turned you gay for me.”

She shook her head ruefully, realising that it was a pretty big assumption on her part, considering that Sharon was now dating Flynn. 

So, maybe:

“Hey, honey? Yeah, it’s me, Brenda. You know, the one who left their husband for you.”

‘Cause that’s so much better!’ She grumbled to herself. She didn’t want Sharon to pity her or her choices. Granted that Fritz was her husband at the time .... but he was NEVER going to be her future.   
Sharon had just given her the courage and motivation to make the change earlier than she had anticipated.

So, maybe she should go with:

“Hey, honey? Yeah, it’s me, Brenda. You know, the one who moved in with you and Rusty like we were one big happy family.”

Her eyes filled with tears again.   
Tears for what could have been, for what SHOULD have been.   
But, maybe they were just too fragile and damaged to make it back then.   
They had all been jaded by life’s blows, Rusty included, and maybe they all needed time to heal before embarking on something new..... 

But that niggling little voice in the back of her mind wouldn’t let up.   
It was the voice that taunted her, and haunted her.   
The voice that always told her .... it was her fault.... that she was weak .... that she had run away, like she always did, when things got tough.

Her mother had always told her, that if things were worth fighting for then they were the things that would be worth it in the end .....   
...... but maybe, just maybe, Brenda had NEVER been worth fighting for .... maybe, just maybe, that’s why Sharon had done what she had ..... and why she was doing what she was now....

Various other scenarios ran through her mind:

“Hey, honey? Yeah, it’s me, Brenda. You know, the one who promised to love you forever.”

Or:

“Hey, honey? Yeah, it’s me, Brenda. You know, the one who up and left you all those years ago without so much as a goodbye, or a reason.”

Or:

“Hey, honey? Yeah, it’s me, Brenda. You know, the one who ignored all your attempts at contact after they walked away from you ....”

Yeah, smooth, she thought to herself.

She wouldn’t blame Sharon for just walking away.... not now anyway, and especially because she herself had been the one to do it first.

But procrastinating wasn’t going to solve her dilemma, nor was it going to suddenly provide her with the correct answer or the right words to make everything ok again.   
Perhaps uncompromising honesty was how she should approach this. 

Honesty had not always been her strong suit – both her job and her marriage had required different mediums of lying in order for her to survive them .....   
But, from the onset, Sharon had insisted on complete honesty between them.  
And Brenda had tried.   
She had laid parts of herself bare, parts of herself that would have normally remained hidden for fears of judgement or abandonment..... but Sharon had stayed .... she had listened ..... she had cared .... she had comforted..... and she had stayed.

But this time, this time, Brenda knew she had pushed the other woman too far.   
There was no coming back from this, no matter how much she wished there was.

From various sources she had heard that Sharon was in a ‘relationship’ with, of all people, Andy Flynn!   
Just the though of his grubby hands touching that soft, delicate, porcelain skin had her blood immediately boiling and jealousy coursing through her veins.

It was irrational.

It was, perhaps, inappropriate.... but it was real, it was honest – “let’s see how she likes that!” Brenda groused to herself.

She continued making her way across the park.   
The flowers, the fountains, the sunshine and the people now not even garnering her attention.   
Their colours became muted, fading to black and white, as her mind focused on only one thing.

Sharon.

Sharon.

Sharon.

The name kept resonating in her mind.

“I guess maybe she was just ‘confused sexually', or whatever .... so much for claiming to love me ..... for claiming to want me ..... for claiming nothing in her life or about herself had made sense until she admitted and acted on her feelings for me....”

The irony of her making assumptions and placing the blame was not lost on her – but it was a default setting she was used to.   
She shook her head wearily, lifting her arms slightly to distribute the baby’s light weight more evenly.

She knew she had no right to blame or judge Sharon for her actions after she left – even if it did make her question whether anything the auburn haired woman had ever told her was the truth....

It hurt to think that she was just .... a what?..... an experiment? .... A sexual awakening? .... A mistake?

Maybe it was better that things had worked out this way.

Maybe the heartache, if that’s what Sharon had also felt, was worth it so that they could both move on with their lives .... lives where Sharon could go back to being ‘straight' and she could go back to ‘pretending’ to be happy.

If only it was that easy!

Because, if anything, it felt harder. 

Brenda still felt broken, she still felt like a part of herself was missing.  
Even holding the one thing that had saved her from her all consuming melancholy .... it all seemed empty without Sharon to share in it.

She wasn’t even sure how she broach the subject of her daughter.   
How do you explain how one of the most painful times in your life also resulted in one of the most happiest? 

There was SO much she needed to say, to explain ... she just wasn’t sure she had the words, or the courage to do so. 

As she continued to procrastinate she heard her cell phone ringing.  
Grasping blindly for it in the baby bag, she felt her fingers close around the vibrating piece of plastic and as she looked at it’s screen, it was a number that she recognised – she just hadn’t planned on having to face the person on the other end of the line quite so soon though.

“Rusty?” she asked, her southern voice hesitant..... and for some reason, she was braced for the worst.

“Yeah, Brenda. It’s me. I need your help.”

All manner of thoughts ran through her mind at why he could possibly need her help. 

Her first thought was that maybe something had happened to Sharon ..... and her heart almost beat out of her chest in fear.   
It took every ounce of strength she had not to collapse to the ground.

Her mind raced to the last time she had seen her, recalling every detail of the woman she loved. 

They had all been together that morning, the same as everyday for past 6 months, since she had practically moved with them both.

She and Rusty had been sat at the breakfast bar in Sharon’s kitchen, bickering amongst themselves, as usual, whilst Sharon was cooking them pancakes. 

The sun had been shining through the French blinds, its rays caught on Sharon’s auburn hair, highlighting the shine and unique colour of those beautiful, soft strands.   
Strands that only a few hours before Brenda had run her fingers through as they lay in each others arms in Sharon’s large comfortable bed.

Sharon was humming and singing along to the radio, a radiant smile gracing her features as she vigorously stirred the pancake batter – it was a move that made Brenda halt mid sentence as her gaze fell to the woman’s chest.   
She was mesmerised.   
Her mind imagining the dusky pink nipples that seemed made for her lips to suckle and kiss .... much like she had earlier that morning.   
Her palms tingled with the phantom weight of those perfect, creamy breasts and her eyes followed every movement they made, much like they did when she was fucking Sharon ... hard .... or when Sharon was undulating rhythmically on top her. 

Only a swift jab in the ribs and jibe of, “jeez, don’t you two get it on enough without leering at each other over the breakfast table too?” from Rusty brought her back to reality.

A deep blush filled the pale skin of her cheeks, as her mouth did an admirable impression of a fish out of water – opening and closing repeatedly in shock at Rusty’s correct interpretation of the situation. 

A graceful chuckle came from across the room as twinkling green eyes gave her a knowing lust filled look, followed by a small wink.

It was a happy memory.   
Perhaps one of her happiest. 

And then, later that evening, after receiving the news she had never expected to hear..... and then seeing Sharon doing ... what she was ... doing... she had left. 

And she didn’t, or rather, couldn’t look back.

“Brenda?” 

“I'm here Rusty. 

Are you ok? Is Sharon ok? What do you need? Where are you? Are you safe?”

She rambled as fear at his unknown predicament ran riot in her frazzled brain.   
But all she heard was his heavy breathing through the phone line.

“Rusty? Rusty?” she tried again, trying desperately to connect with him.

“It’s good to hear from you ..... how’ve you been?”

She continued to make her way across Griffiths park, knowing that she was pushed for time, but also knowing that she could never refuse Rusty anything he needed.   
Not after she had abandoned him .... and Sharon.

His response was like a bullet from a gun.   
Quick.   
Blunt.   
And deadly.

“Really? How have I been? You have a fucking nerve Brenda!”

She could hear the anger radiating from his voice.  
It was a tone she hadn’t heard from him in years.   
It was the tone that he had used the very first day she had ever met him in her murder room.

Just the memory of that former life caused her to halt misstep.  
It was a past life and job that she had tried so hard to run from, so just hearing that familiar tone in his voice felt like a short, sharp slap of reality.

“You have every right to be angry at me Rusty. I deserve that. But, we both know your momma raised you better than to use foul language, and....”

Before she could even finish her sentence he retaliated, her words like a proverbial red rag to a bull.

“She’s NOT my fucking mother! She doesn’t give a shit about me, just like you!   
My REAL mother is still in jail, but you’d know that if you’d ever bothered to fucking stick around.  
So don’t you DARE call that .... that .... selfish bitch my mother!   
You’re both the same, you know that?   
Only difference is, she’s not the one up and running away from me like you did ..... cause I’m doing it to her first.”

His breaths were heavy though the phone and his anger was palpable.   
He was back to being that angry boy who hated the world and everyone in it. 

“Rusty, Sharon loves you.   
You know that and I know that.” 

She tried to keep her tone calm, not just to try and keep the dialogue between them flowing but also to keep the little bundle nestled in her arms asleep. 

A derisive snort filled her ears before he verbally responded.

“You don’t know a single damn fucking thing about us any more Br-enda.”

She bit her lip to keep herself from responding in the same petulant tone. 

“Then why don’t you fill me in?   
You’re the one who called for my help.   
So tell me Rusty, how can I help you?”

“Why did you answer the call?”

It was not the response she was expecting.

“Why now Brenda?   
Why after all this time and after ALL the calls you ignored? Why now?”

Honesty.   
He deserved honesty – even if he didn’t need to know everything ... just yet.

“Because, I’m finally ready ..... and able ...to talk now, Rusty.”

His silence worried her.

Ordinarily the Brenda of the past would have tried to fill the silence.   
She would have told him what he wanted to hear, not intending to maliciously deceive him, but wanting to avoid confrontation, or disappointment ...... and unnecessary hurt.   
But she wasn’t that person any more.   
She couldn’t be.   
Too much had happened and too much time had passed.   
She owed him at least a semblance of the truth, at least for now.

“Rusty?”

“Yeah .... I’m still here Brenda.”

He took a deep breath and exhaled heavily through the phone before continuing.

“Guess I wasn’t expecting that.   
Honesty... but, I can work with that.”

She felt herself breathe again.

“So, ..... you said you needed my help? Well, I’m all ears.”

As she waited, not so patiently for him to respond, she busied herself with opening her car and placing her sleeping daughter carefully into her car seat.

“I wanna come live with you.”

Rusty was nothing if not blunt.

“You want .... to come ... and live .... with me?”

“Good to know you haven’t gone deaf in your extended absence!” he muttered darkly.

“Good to know your charmin’ sense of wit and charisma has survived my absence!”

She could hear him snort in laughter at her quick retort.

“Tell me what’s goin' on Rusty. I thought you were settled ... and happy...”

His temper was quick to return.

“Well, if you’d bothered to stick around then you’d already know!   
Look, I shouldn’t have wasted my time - just say no already!   
Cause I can take care of myself!   
I’ve done it before, and I can do it again!”

“You finished?” she calmly asked, pulling out into the afternoon LA traffic.

“I hate you.”

“I'm sure you do, Rusty, and you have good reason.   
But let’s not forget – YOU called ME, so why don’t you stop acting out and listen to what I have to say, instead of trying to put words into my mouth.”

She paused, half expecting him to hang up the phone, but finally he replied.

“Fine.”

“So, is THIS the ‘help' you need?   
You need somewhere to go?”

“Good guess Sherlock!   
You find that out using your ‘detective skills' or just from the words that literally left my mouth less than 5 seconds ago?”

She knew he was testing her, trying to push her buttons to see if she would as easily abandon him again. Despite knowing this, his words and attitude hurt.   
And after dealing with Fritz just moments before she was struggling to maintain her calm equilibrium.

“I know what you’re doing Rusty, and it’s not going to work.”

Her tone was mild, even as her hands shook with the anxiety of waiting for his next response.   
Only a glance in the rear view mirror at her sleeping daughter managed to calm her somewhat.

“Yeah?   
Well, you have a habit of leaving.”

“You’re right. I do.   
But, well, things have changed now .... SO MANY things .... and, so have I.   
You may not trust me right now. And I get that, I understand that I hurt you ...”

“Do you, Brenda?” He interrupted angrily.

“You left us! You left me!   
You just up and fucking left!   
What’s that about? Huh? WHO the fuck does that?!?! It’s like you just woke up one day .... and POOF .... you were done!   
You decided you just didn’t give a shit anymore.... so yeah! I’m fucking angry!!”

She could hear him beeping his horn in anger at another driver and muttering several more curse words before he continued.

“And now, NOW, you want me to believe you’ve changed and what?Take it at face value? Believe that you’ve changed for good?   
Why should I give a fuck? Tell me that? Huh? Why should I give a FUCKING fuck!!?!?!”

If he was expecting to have finally provoked her then he was wrong. 

“Where are you at, Rusty?   
Where are you?”

She could continue to hear him driving, his speed seeming to increase in conjunction with his anger.

“You know what? Fuck you! I don’t owe you a goddamn thing! Just like Sharon! I don’t need either of you! I don’t need anyone! Never did, never will!  
So, why don’t you go back to your nice little life, wherever the fuck that is, and congratulate yourself on being an ‘upstanding citizen’ by reaching out once more to the poor little street hustler....   
..... you know, you and Sharon are just as bad as each other – you both fucked me over .... it just took her longer and being ‘under’ that asshole Flynn to do it.”

He was gasping for air now, on the verge of a panic attack.

“Rusty? Stop!  
Pull over the car and put your hazard lights on. DO IT RUSTY!"

She could hear his engine revving.

“Rusty? Listen to my voice,” she calmly stated. “Listen to my voice and take a deep breath in .... hold it for 5 and breath out...”

She heard him following her instructions.

“Ok, let’s do that again. Ok? In for 5 and ..... that’s it, let it out. One more time ok?”

She could hear his breathing becoming less gasping and more controlled.

“I want you to find a safe place to pull over Rusty. Please.”

Her ears strained to hear the slightest noise, trying to figure out what he was doing ... or planning to do.

After what felt like hours, but was actually mere minutes, she heard the car's indicator clicking before the engine was eventually turned off.

“Where are you Rusty?”

“What does it matter, Brenda? What does anything matter anymore?”

He sounded so defeated.

“You matter Rusty. You matter to me ..... and you matter to your mom.. Sharon,” she finished.

She waited for his anger to flare up again at her near misstep, but instead she heard a strangled sob and a voice laden with tears.

“I’m not so sure about that Brenda.   
A lot of things have happened since you .... well, since you’ve been gone, and a LOT of things have been said ..... things that you can’t take back .... you know?”

Her heart ached for him.

“There’s ALWAYS a way back Rusty.  
It might be hard .... and it will definitely be painful, but eatin' humble pie ain’t that bad if it means getting back the things you need most in your life....”

“So is that what you’re doing then, Brenda? Eating humble pie?”

He listened to her softly sigh before answering.

“Yeah, I guess that’s EXACTLY what I’m doing..... and I’ll continue to do it until the end of time if that’s what I need to do to be allowed back into your life...”

“How do I know you won’t just up and leave again?”

She could almost see him shrugging in her mind eye.

“Cause we both know that you do that .... a LOT...”

“Rusty, you don’t know that, it’s true.... but....” and she continued quickly before he had a chance to become defensive once again.

“..... I’m not the same person I was all those years ago. I could swear to you till I’m blue in the face that I will never leave you again, that I will never hurt you again ... but they’re just words Rusty.   
And the cold truth is that, as much as I want to .... I can’t make that promise....”

“So, you’re wasting my time!? What the hell Brenda!”

“I’m not going to lie to you Rusty, you deserve better than that.   
I just don’t want to make promises that I can’t keep.  
And before you get defensive, it’s not because I don’t want to do all those things, it’s because we both know how the real world works Rusty.   
We both know that it’s not always rainbows and flowers and happily ever after, and I would be a shitty person after everything you’ve been through to not be honest with you.

What I will promise, is that I am CHOOSING to be here for you.   
I WANT to be here for you.   
And I WILL DO everything in my power to make sure you lead a happy and secure life .... and I guess ... I’m asking... you .... for the chance,... the chance to be a part of it..... again .... and for good this time.”

She waited for his response, pulling into the underground carpark as she reached her destination.

“You didn’t answer my question Brenda....”

His response confused her.

“I told you I wanted to come and live with you ... and well, .... you never answered. 

“Are you gonna tell me what happened with you and your momm .... er, Sharon?” she quickly amended.

“Does it matter? Cause I’m NOT going back! And you can’t make me!”

“No one is gonna force you to do anything Rusty. Least of all me...”

She briefly paused, wanting her next words to come out properly.

“..... but, do you really want to deal with things this way? By.... running away?....”   
she left the unspoken ‘like me' hanging in the air between them.

“Seems to work for everyone else.” He argued back.

“My real mom up and left me at the fuckin' zoo!   
You ditched me when things got too tough and Fritz made you.   
THEN! Then you come back and .... you disappear on me AGAIN!”

“Rusty, you know it’s not...”

He didn’t let her continue.

“It’s EXACTLY like that Brenda! And you fucking know it!”

His breathing was once again heavy and his tone laced with anger and betrayal.

“And ... and... Sharon..... she PRETENDED!  
All this fucking time, she pretended!   
She lied to me!   
We promised to always be honest ..... and ... and, she couldn't fucking do it!   
She gets together with that asswipe Flynn ...” 

his anger was causing him to gasp in his breaths again, making his words clipped and full of spite.

“..... and instead of .... telling me.... I find out ... by walking in on them! Making out!   
My mom making out with that fucking smuck!”

Despite not liking what she hearing about Sharon and Andy, she was pleased that underneath all his anger Rusty still reverted back to call Sharon his ‘mom’.... because she was.   
In EVERY sense of the word.

“And then!   
I find out that .... that he.... that ...THEY got engaged! And it’s because he rubbed it in my fucking face by telling me.... that he was gonna be the ‘man of the house’ soon .... what the fuck, Brenda!   
WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!  
So, you know what? I’m gone.   
And you can either help me get out .... or not.   
But, either way, I’m going.”

It was as if he’d finally run out of steam, but the silence down the line was still palpable.   
She briefly wondered if he had heard her small gasp of shock at his revelation of Sharon’s ‘engagement’ – she hoped not, because she was by no means ready to talk about her own feelings on the matter.   
In fact, her head and her heart felt in direct conflict. One the one hand, her head knew that this could’ve been the outcome after all those years ago ..... so maybe, maybe it was just meant for them to be... and she should be ... happy for them.   
But her heart... well, her heart was actually in pain at the loss .... 

The thing was, she had now become used to hiding her pain behind a smile.   
It didn’t make it better that’s for sure.... but it also meant that on top of it all she didn’t have to deal with people’s pity .... or questions ... or alleged ‘good intentions'.   
And with everything she had so far faced, and would continue to face, with her daughter – well, she couldn’t afford to let other things distract her .... or break her ... not when she needed to stay strong for her baby girl. 

It was Rusty who broke the silence once more, obviously unnerved by her lack of response.

“Brenda?”

“I’m still here Rusty. I’m just ... thinkin'....”

“If it’s money ... well, I have the money to get me to Georgia. Or, I could... well, I could drive.....  
..... Brenda?   
I mean, i know I’d have to .... well ... behave .... or whatever. And I will ! I swear!   
Or, I won’t ‘swear’ cause I know you said your mom doesn’t like profanity....  
And, I mean ... she seemed real nice when I met her that time .... your dad too.....”

Brenda felt her eyes watering with unshed tears at the thought of her late mother, and as she released the car seat from the backseat and slotted it into the stroller, all she really wanted to do was sob at the fact that neither her mother, nor her daughter would EVER get to meet.

“You’re right Rusty... she was the best .... and, umm.... she really liked you ....” her voice tapered off, as she struggled to keep the quiver of emotion out of her voice when using the past tense to describe her.

Unfortunately, she seemed to forget how smart and observant Rusty was – it was how he had survived on the streets for as long as he had.

“Bren?”

Just the sound of her old nickname almost made her throat close up in emotion.

He knew. 

He had figured it out.

“Why ... why are you talking about your mom ... in the ... er... past tense? Is she ...? Did she....?”

He couldn’t quite bring himself to say the word that they both knew was missing.....

DEAD.

Brenda wiped the tears that had began to fall, clearing her throat as she pressed the button for the elevator as she began to respond.

“Yeah. Yeah she is ....”

“Oh shit Bren! I’m sorry! I’m... so sorry! Here’s me going on about all my crap and your mom just .... died.... shit! Fuck! I’m sorry.”

She hated hearing him beat himself up, and she knew that the Brenda of old would have used his assumption as a ‘get out' clause for herself.   
But, she wasn’t that person anymore.

Her voice was full of pain and anguish when she responded:

“Rusty, honey ... she ...it .... she passed away 2 years ago .....”

She waited for him to catch on to what she didn't say – and it didn’t take him long.

In a quiet voice came one of the questions she was dreading –

“Is that ... why you left so suddenly? Cause she ... died?”

He was showing admirable restraint considering how he could have responded, and how emotional he had ready been during their conversation.

She hummed in response.

“Partly, I guess ...”

She didn’t want to lie to him, but she also wasn’t sure that he needed to know the complete truth... at least not until she had spoken to Sharon.   
She just couldn’t risk it alienating them from each other further – not after everything he had mentioned about the current state of his and Sharon’s relationship.

“So ... what ... you don’t want to tell me? Or you just don’t want me to come to Georgia?”

“ .... well, I’m not IN Georgia anymore, Rusty .... so no, you can’t come ....”

Before she could even finish her sentence he was trying to end the call.

“Look. It’s fine. Cool. Whatever.” 

It was obvious he was trying to remain nonchalant about what he considered to be a ‘knock back’ – but she wasn’t going to let him go, not this time.

“Rusty ... I’m not in Georgia.... because I’m back in LA.  
I just got back to LA......”

All she heard in response was the dial tone after he had hung up.


End file.
